Well, the antibiotics didn't work as quickly as I had hoped. Late on Sunday night we debated whether I was an A&E case or whether it could wait until Monday morning. My side was really very swollen and the redness seemed to be marching from my side across my chest at a rate of knots.
Fortunately, my consultant picked up my texted photograph on Sunday evening and asked me to see him first thing Monday morning. I was relieved not to have to go to the local A&E - by the time that I had explained the history at Derriford, it would be Monday afternoon anyway.
As I write this - it's Wednesday evening, and I am just getting out of RDE having endured another hospital stay being drained and put on I/V antibiotics again. I have to admit to feeling very down after finding myself here again, not only because in my head I had moved on from that stage, but because I had to say goodbye to my wife and kids again, if only for a short period. Having previously been more concerned about my eldest, my youngest has decided to join the fray and declared this week that he missed me. See where a regular bedtime routine and some decent Roald Dahl can get you?
I appreciate that standing back, I should have expected that things like this could happen, but I hadn't mentally prepared myself for that particular moment. Looking on the positive side, at least I didn't have to have more surgery - which was a distinct possibility. Right, let's start again - shall we?
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